Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

“Do not be afraid. I only wished you to see my realm as it will be,” the Shadow Monarch said.

She continued to smile at Alwyn, tossing her long blonde tresses in a way that reminded him of Nafeesah. “No, you want to destroy everything.”

Her face darkened, and in an instant, so did the sky. The breeze grew into a cold wind, tearing the wings from the butterfly perched on his musket, which fell to the ground to flop helplessly in the dirt. A moment later She smiled, bringing the warm, sunny day again to the mountaintop. “I want to set things right. Do you not see? There is much that is wrong with the world. Its people make war against each other. They kill, they desecrate nature. I want peace, Alwyn. I want things to be the way they were meant…to be.”

“What about the rakkes, and the dark elves? The blood trees?” He kept looking around, still expecting an attack at any moment. “What about us? Why us?”

“I mean you no harm, truly,” She said. “My desire has only ever been to right the wrongs that have been done. I want to heal that which is wounded and return that which was lost.” As She spoke, black ichor bubbled to the surface of the small clearing, forming a pool. She waved a hand across it and the surface changed, showing Alwyn scene after scene of death and destruction. None of them were by Her hand.

“I was at Luuguth Jor. I’ve been to the islands. You can’t fool me,” Alwyn said.

“Change is painful, Alwyn, but it is necessary. Look at what you hold in your hands. Is a death by your weapon any less a death?”

Alwyn shook his head, trying to clear it. This wasn’t what he had expected. Her arguments had a logic to them Alwyn couldn’t deny. “Please, I just want to be left alone. I want this to be over.”

The Shadow Monarch smiled. The mountaintop grew cold and darkness fell. Color bled from the world, leaving shades of gray pierced through with black. Freezing rain began to fall, each drop a crystal shard of ice. The wind scoured the ground, ripping away the grass and flowers and exposing the rock beneath. The Wolf Oaks twisted into sarka har, and shadows of dark creatures ringed the forest. “Come Alwyn, and let me show you how.” She reached out a hand.

Alwyn stared at it for what felt like an eternity, then reached out his hand. Shadow enveloped them both and Alwyn saw a way for the pain to end.

Despite every instinct in his body screaming this was a mistake, Konowa slung his musket over his shoulder and climbed into the saddle strapped to the camel. The smell of the beast almost had him vaulting right back off. Nothing alive and healthy should smell this bad, yet the beast did not appear to be at death’s door. Not yet, anyway.

Suppressing his urge to vomit, Konowa gripped the saddle until his hand and arm muscles burned with pain as the beast jerked its way to a standing position. Konowa looked down at the ground and wished he hadn’t. He knew he was only ten feet up, but from the saddle it felt and looked like a thousand. One small slip and he’d plummet to his death.

“Breathe, Major. It’s actually quite enjoyable once you become used to the height,” the Suljak said, walking his camel up to halt beside Konowa’s. He sat perched on the saddle on the beast’s hump with one leg tucked underneath his body, looking as comfortable as if he were lounging on pillows safely set on the ground.

“I have no intention of being up here long enough to find out,” Konowa said. Now upright, his camel stood stock still, showing no inclination to move. Konowa wasn’t sure if he should kick the beast with the heel of his boot, smack it with the flat side of his saber, snap the reins, or simply shoot it and walk. He knew his preference would be frowned upon. “Any advice on how to ride this thing?”

“Remember that the animal is both emotional and intelligent. It has feelings, and it knows when a rider is afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” Konowa said, “I’m concerned.”

“Of course,” the Suljak said. “Firm grip on the reins, not too tight and not too loose, and enjoy the ride. The camel has done this many times before. All you have to do is sit on top and look majestic.”

Konowa snorted. “I’d rather look tired and dusty down there,” he said, pointing at the ground. The camel suddenly moved a few feet to the right, almost granting Konowa his wish.

The Suljak smiled. “Elves never cease to amaze me. Do you know the ones stationed in the desert outposts are not overly fond of riding either? Some of the tribes thought to take advantage of that fact and raid a few caravans some miles from the nearest outpost, thinking the elves would never patrol that far into the desert. The raiders found to their chagrin that the elves could move rather quickly on two feet.”

Talk of his elves brightened Konowa’s spirits immensely. Pride welled in his chest to hear of their exploits. “You’ve met with them, then? I’ve had a hell of a time trying to get any information about them. Viceroy Alstonfar has been less than forthcoming. He said they prefer the isolation of the desert to the city. I was hoping to talk to him more about them, but he’s been busy all morning with this,” Konowa said, waving around them at the city.

The Suljak grew quiet. “It’s been some time since I’ve been to an outpost. Much of my work of late has been here in Nazalla dealing with the Viceroy. These elves of yours, they are interesting fellows.” The Suljak spoke hesitantly, as if the subject was one he would prefer to not discuss.

“They’re good soldiers,” Konowa said, knowing he sounded defensive and not caring. “In fact, they’re the best there are.”

“Better than the latest crop of Iron Elves?”

Konowa carefully sat up in the saddle and looked around. No troops were within earshot. “I’m proud of the regiment as it is, but when my brethren are reinstated in the Iron Elves and their honor restored, the regiment will truly be whole again.”

“And are you that certain that these elves will rejoin? Do you expect them to take the Blood Oath that now binds you-if the rumors be true-in life and death?”

It was a sticky point. Konowa had envisioned a thousand times his reunion with the elves of his homeland, and he’d never gotten past the initial greeting. He knew what he hoped-that the elves would welcome him as a long-lost brother and pledge their loyalty to him and his fight to overthrow the Shadow Monarch and forever erase Her taint. But would they? Kritton had wanted to kill him all the way through their journey to Luuguth Jor, and he had remained in the relatively civilized land of Elfkyna. What would elves banished to the desert be like, especially when they had committed no crime other than to follow him? Would they see Konowa as their savior, or as the elf who had condemned them to suffer because Konowa, as their commanding officer, murdered the Viceroy of Elfkyna in cold blood for that elf’s suspected ties to the Shadow Monarch? By not bringing the Viceroy up on charges, Konowa’s rash act cast a pall of suspicion on the trustworthiness of all the elves and led to his and, by extension, their downfall.

“Things will work themselves out,” Konowa said, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt.

“I do hope so, but I should warn you, Major-even a short length of time in the desert will change a man, or elf. I would suggest caution in your optimistic approach.”

As Konowa thought about that, Viceroy Alstonfar rode up on his camel, his rotund form at ease on the saddle. “The Prince requests both your presences at the front of the column. We are moving out.”

“The city is still seething, Viceroy,” Konowa said. “Do you really think we can just waltz on out of here?”

Viceroy Alstonfar and the Suljak shared a look before the Viceroy spoke. “Concessions have been made. Significant financial concessions to the families of those who lost members last night.”